


The Young Wolf and the Lion

by Ls2103cp



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, game of thrones
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-17 15:49:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5876647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ls2103cp/pseuds/Ls2103cp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Robb Stark's desire for Cersei Lannister change the course of the war and the future of Westeros.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Very much a work in progress. Let me know what you think!

The younger Stark children played around him, teasing each other and laughing. To his right, Theon was recounting his latest tryst with Ros the prettiest whore in the village. But tonight, Robb Stark’s thoughts and eyes were on one thing only, Cersei Lannister; her honey curls and glinting green eyes were all the heir to Winterfell could see. Robb had thought of nothing but the queen since she’d stepped imperiously from the wagon earlier in the day and swept a cool gaze over her Northern subjects. That gaze had rested on him for the briefest of moments, their eyes meeting following his father, Lord Eddard’s greeting. That moment had been enough to spark a fire of desire in Robb that he’d never felt before. This was wholly different from the lust he’d slaked with pretty serving wenches and tavern girls. No, Cersei Lannister, he thought, was the sort of woman men should do noble deeds for; fight and die for.

“Robb,” Theon’s voice broke through his reverie, “the king will have your cock if you keep staring at his wife like that.” Theon had noticed his friend’s distraction since the royal arrival, now it seemed he’d found the source of it.

Robb looked round the hall to where the king stood, his face buried happily between the large breasts of a serving girl. “Don’t think the old sod cares,” he responded. So far, his father’s closest friend was turning out to be quite a disappointment. Robb had been named after the king and had grown up on stories of his skill and prowess on the battlefield. Clearly, that was where his admirable attributes ended. The man Robb had esteemed his whole life had turned out to be a fat letch and he could not understand what would cause a man to abandon a beauty like Cersei for a common wench.

The feast was still in full swing as Cersei made her excuses to Catelyn Stark. She’d had enough talk of children and marriages and all the other idle prattle which she found increasingly interminable. More so, was her disgust at her husband, the king’s, lewd behavior. Gods, she thought, The drunkard couldn’t even keep his hands to himself in the presence of the cold Lord Eddard of Winterfell. She needed Jaime. She needed those strong arms around her and those worshipful hands on her. A cry of alarm left her lips as a tall male figure came around a corner and bumped into her.

“Apologies, Your Grace.” Cersei had had too much wine as was becoming her custom, and she was grateful for the steadying hands on her arms. The grey eyes that looked down into hers were the same color as his father’s, but Robb Stark’s eyes were warm where Eddard’s were cool and disapproving. At the moment, they were wide with embarrassment at running headlong into the queen.

The corners of her mouth turned up in the smallest hint of a smile, “It’s alright.” Quite handsome, she thought as she regarded the tall well-built frame, russet curls and full lips. Those grey eyes were looking at her with such innocent appreciation and his strong hands were so warm through the silk of her gown that she found her pulse quickening and her breathing coming harder. He was no courtier trying to curry favor with insincere flattery; the boy was genuinely taken with her. For the briefest moment she thought of taking him to her bed, she was already fucking Lancel Lannister, her husband’s squire, a boy the same age as the young wolf, but no, she couldn’t, not with Jaime so close. He’d kill the boy and start a war. All the same, she felt the heat rise in her cheeks at the thought of such a handsome and untried lover. “I must go,” she freed herself from his grasp and hurried off to her chambers where Jaime waited.

It was that moment now that Cersei thought of as she walked the ramparts of King’s Landing. Would it have given her an advantage now to have taken the Young Wolf as a lover then? The war had been raging for nigh on a year now. Her father’s forces had lost every battle to Robb Stark’s forces and now that Stark had joined his army with Renly’s, their victory seemed inevitable.

* * *

 

“You can’t be serious!” Renly was standing at the council table in his tent, furious at The King in The North. “Cersei Lannister is a traitorous bitch that needs to be put down! Tommen and Myrcella I will spare for the love I bore them while I thought myself their uncle, but Cersei! She committed treason every time she lay with the Kingslayer and her actions are what have brought this country to war!”

Robb stood looking at Renly Baratheon across the battle maps, “She’s still heir to the richest family in Westeros and young enough to bear other children.”

“And you’d play the jailor?” Renly couldn’t believe the action Stark was proposing. Yes, he’d felt sorry for his sister in-law at one time; perhaps if Robert had been able to keep to his marriage bed Cersei wouldn’t have needed to fuck everything in sight, including her brother. But, the time for sympathy was long past.

“She’d not be a prisoner, she’d be my wife,” Robb countered.

“Safer to kill her and be done with it. She’ll only cause trouble alive, even shut up at Winterfell.”

Robb wanted to hate Cersei, he hated all the other Lannisters after all, but he just couldn’t hate her. The woman had sunk her claws in with just a few words and glances when they’d met at Winterfell. Damn her! Robb thought. Renly was right, this mess was her doing. But, Robb had also seen the way the King had treated his wife, how he’d flaunted his other women and the cruel and dismissive words he spat at her every chance he got. For Robb, who had been raised in a loving family by parents who held each other in the highest regard, such treatment of one’s wife was unconscionable. He’d wanted to hate her since that first raven had arrived with word of his father’s imprisonment, but he kept thinking about the way she’d looked up into his eyes and the way her flesh had felt under her silk gown as he’d held her against him so briefly. Thinking back to that moment, he almost couldn’t blame the Kingslayer for not being able to resist her, even if she was his own sister.

His decision was made, “I will take her to Winterfell, and make her my wife and Queen. And I pray to the gods never again to have to leave my land. I enjoy your company Renly, but I hope to see very little of you till the end of my days.”

Renly shook his head but he could see that his friend had made up his mind, “Very well, but on your head be it, as they say.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stark and Baratheon forces descend on King's Landing

Joffrey was lost to her, Cersei knew that. She would have given her life a thousand times to save her oldest boy, but she knew now that she would have to sacrifice him to save his siblings; sweet Tommen and her darling Myrcella. Renly and Stark’s terms had come to her and not the king by way of Varys’ network of spys. They were addressed expressly to her and though they broke her heart, she knew acquiescing to them was the only chance she’d get to save her other two children. They were the good ones after all, she reasoned, not beyond saving as Joffrey was. She took another sip of wine as she read the terms again; Tommen would take the black and Myrcella would be married to Petyr Baelish. He was Lord of Dragonstone now that Renly had defeated and killed his elder brother Stannis. Much as Cersei hated Littlefinger, seeing as how her daughter was an inbred bastard she could have been given to a much worse fate. At least Littelfinger understood the importance of a Lannister bride, even if she was a bastard. No, what had been shocking to her had been those words determining her own future; the Young Wolf offered marriage.

She’d had to re-read that last part several times to make sure she had not misread them. Renly accepted Stark’s position as King in the North, and she would be his queen. She’d been most surprised by the way her stomach had fluttered and her cheeks flushed at the thought. All she had to do was betray Joffrey and she and her other children would be safe. The opening of a secret tunnel and the war would be over. She had until morning to give her response. She had thrown the paper into the fire, watched it burn to ashes then taken to the ramparts.

It was where she was now, clutching at her heavy shawl as an unusually cool wind swept over the walls. It was there that her thoughts had turned to Robb and that night at Winterfell when she could have made him hers. The idea of being in his arms had momentarily excited her and then cold reality set in. She was a Lannister, he was a Stark and no doubt blamed her for his father’s death. Not that he would have been wrong in the blaming; she had much to answer for. He would hate her as Robert had hated her and she would spend the rest of her days in the frozen North away from everyone she loved.

The sky was lighting as she set her mind to her course. She couldn’t believe she was trusting Varys and yet here she was at his door. “If one hair on Tommen or Myrcella’s head is harmed I swear I will kill you myself, and it will not be a quick death eunich,” she swore as she left his chamber. Their plans were set, come the next morning Joffrey would probably be dead and she would be in the hands of Robb Stark.

* * *

 

“She says yes!” Robb had thrown Renly’s tent wide open at the news, for once uncaring what he might stumble upon. As expected Renly was tangled up in Loras Tyrell’s arms. “What?” Renly and Loras both jumped out of bed.

“By the gods Stark! Do you know what time it is?”

Robb threw clothes is Renly’s direction, “Time to make plans. By tomorrow morning we’ll be feasting in the Great Hall of King’s Landing.”

* * *

 

Renly couldn’t take the Iron Throne, the ghost of his brother Robert held him back. Instead, he now stood staring at it, a hand tracing the intricate details of one of the many blades melted together. The battle had hardly been a battle at all. Seeing the vastly larger force of Renly and Robb Stark pouring through the castle halls in the middle of the night, the Goldcloaks had barely put up a struggle. He still couldn’t believe that he was King and that it had been Cersei Lannister that had put him there.

Robb and Loras stood below the dais speaking to various members of their respective forces. There was much that needed to be done, including the clearing of the bodies from the keep. It was Stark men though that had been entrusted with the most important tasks of securing the Lannisters as well as his sister. He grabbed at the collar of one of his captains, “Where are they?”

“Barricaded herself and the two bastards in the Tower of The Hand, Your Grace. Lady Sansa is with them as well. The Queen says she will not come out unless you are present.”

Just as he had instructed her to do, Robb thought. “And Joffery?”

The captain smiled, “The darkest hole of the black cells, Your Grace.”

Robb clapped the man on the back and smiled at Renly, “I told you it would work.”

“It’s a bloody miracle Stark, but it's not over yet. We still have Tywin Lannister to deal with.”

“We have King’s Landing, we have the larger force, and we have his children and grandchildren.”

“That’s provided we can get that bitch to come out of the tower.”

“Aye, well, she held up her end, I’m off to see to mine.”

* * *

 

Cersei held Tommen tightly in her arms while Sansa tried to comfort the frightened Myrcella. A serving girl stoked the fire in the hearth while two Lannister guards stood at the ready. Cersei had followed Robb’s instructions to the letter.

“You’ll see, Myrcella,” Sansa was saying to the girl as she stroked her golden hair, “My brother won’t hurt you. I promise. I’ll make sure of it.”

The girl looked to her mother for reassurance. The Queen’s cheeks were wet with tears as she rocked her youngest slowly; his chubby fingers around her neck for perhaps the last time. She didn’t respond right away. She wanted to tell her daughter that Sansa was right, that no harm would come to her, that everything would be alright, but it would be a lie. Even if Stark held up his end of the bargain, their lives would be forever changed. Likely, she’d never see her children again. Hard green eyes locked onto Myrcella’s, “Never forget that you are a Lannister, and that I love you.” It was all the comfort she could offer.


End file.
